


For Every Failing Sun

by corruptedkid, paraka



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Audio Format: M4B, Audio Format: MP3, Audio Format: Streaming, Curses, Dark Fairy Tale Elements, Dark Fantasy, Gen, M/M, Magic, Minor Original Character(s), Podfic, Podfic & Podficced Works, Podfic Cover Art, Podfic Length: 1.5-2 Hours, you can read frank and gerard's relationship however u want tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-06-23 20:51:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15614745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corruptedkid/pseuds/corruptedkid, https://archiveofourown.org/users/paraka/pseuds/paraka
Summary: In a town cursed to eternal night, Mikey Way is dying. Gerard is desperate to save him, but doing so seems impossible - even Ray, the town's doctor, is helpless in the face of age-old magic.But even in a land of darkness, one bond may prove powerful enough to restore the light.





	For Every Failing Sun

  
  
Cover by paraka

**Length:** 1:32:15  
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* * *

A single candle burns on the tabletop. It casts a flickering orange glow about the room. Mikey is curled up in his bed, shivering despite the cocoon of thick-knit blankets wrapped around him.

“You need a doctor,” Gerard says.

“I don’t,” Mikey rasps. He pulls the blankets tighter around his shoulders. “I’ll be fine by tomorrow, I swear.”

“You said that yesterday.”

Mikey shudders once more, shifting closer to the candle. It illuminates a sheen of sweat on his forehead. “It’ll go away,” he says. “Just give it time.”

“You need a doctor,” Gerard repeats. 

“There _aren’t_ any doctors,” Mikey says wearily. He turns to cough into his elbow and says, “Ray’s in Silverdale. It’ll be a fortnight ‘til he’s back.”

“I don’t care,” Gerard says fiercely. “I’ll go and get him if I have to. I can’t sit here and watch you like this.”

Mikey just sighs, his eyes slipping shut. The sound of his breathing is reedy and hollow. After a moment, his eyes snap back open, and even in the dim light, Gerard sees him go pale. He lurches out of bed and stumbles from the room. The sound of retching comes from down the hall.

Gerard grabs his cloak and follows Mikey. “That’s it, I’m going to get Ray,” he declares, throwing it around his shoulders. “Don’t die while I’m gone.”

“Gerard, wait!” Mikey grabs his arm. “You can’t go out now, it’s almost nightfall. Just wait until tomorrow morning, all right?”

Gerard fastens the button at his collar. “You could be worse by then,” he says. “I’m leaving now.”

Mikey’s eyes widen. “By yourself? Are you out of your mind?”

“I won’t light the lantern until I really need it, it’ll be fine. I go in the forest all the time anyway, I know my way around.” Gerard goes back to the bedroom, where his satchel is sitting on top of his desk. He slings it over his shoulder, then pulls open the top drawer, where he keeps the lantern. Mikey staggers in after him, leaning against the doorway.

“Please don’t,” he says hoarsely. “You’re overreacting - you’ll get yourself killed if you leave now.”

“I said I won’t light it,” Gerard says shortly. He tucks a pack of matches into his bag. “Silverdale’s only an hour away.”

“So why can’t you just wait until - “

“Because you’ve been throwing up for two days, and if you don’t see a doctor soon, I don’t know if you’ll _make it_ until morning.” Gerard puts a hand on Mikey’s shoulder. His skin is hot to the touch. “I’ll be fine,” Gerard says quietly. “Stay safe until I’m back, okay?”

Mikey takes a few steps back and sits on the bed. “You’d better not light it,” he says shakily.

“I won’t. Try and get some rest.” Gerard blows out the candle on the table, and the room is plunged into darkness. 

He goes downstairs, never missing a step despite the blackness. His hand lands on the doorknob on the first try. He slips outside, easing the door shut behind him, and turns to look out into the square. It takes his eyes a minute to adjust. The barest hint of starlight trickles down from above, just enough for him to make out the silhouettes of the houses nearby. Just beyond them lies the forest. The trees are a huge mass of black, blotting out the stars and looming over the town like giants. Gerard tilts his head back, and he still can’t tell where the branches end and the sky begins. 

He hitches his bag higher up on his shoulder and forges ahead.

As he approaches the treeline, he reaches into the bag, and his fingers close around the hilt of his knife. He pulls it out and keeps it in a tight grip. The dusty path beneath his feet grows into soft grass, then knobbly roots. He feels out each step, searching for solid footing as the roots get thicker and thicker. Before he knows it, he’s climbing over wooden ridges that reach up to his knees. 

Once Gerard’s inside, the trees swallow him up. With the darkness and the thick trunks obscuring his vision, it only takes a few seconds for him to lose sight of the town. He takes a deep breath to calm the frantic beating of his heart. He’s done this many times before, but never at night, and most definitely never alone. He could lose his way at any moment. He’s got the lantern to guide him, but that leads him to another, even more frightening prospect: they could catch him.

Gerard keeps the case of matches in his bag. He knows the first part of the journey well enough; he’s escorted friends to Silverdale and back often enough that muscle memory takes over. It’s not until he’s well within the heart of the woods, trees rising up like colossal pillars around him, that he takes out a match.

He runs his fingers over the sliver of wood and exhales slowly, sending a quick prayer to the guardians of the forest.

Then he strikes it against the pack, and it bursts into a flicker of light. He drops it into the base of the lantern. It catches, and the light flares brighter, illuminating the tree trunks all around him. Gerard quickly wraps part of his cloak around it. He only needs to see what’s in front of him; any excess light is too conspicuous. 

Beyond the glow of his lantern, the darkness is absolute. He tries not to look between the trees. The threat of something looking back at him is enough to keep his eyes fixed straight ahead. He climbs over another gnarled root, forcing himself to think of Mikey. Not the shadows; not the creatures lurking within them, with their pale eyes and long fingers reaching out toward the light. Only Mikey.

Ray really did choose the _worst_ time to leave town.

Every wavering shadow in the trees looks like a monster poised to spring. Even now, they could be creeping closer, hungry for the light. He could have only seconds before they pounce.

Gerard lets out a shaky breath. Thinking like that will only make him panic, and panic makes him sloppy. He needs to be alert. 

He starts to hum under his breath. It won’t hurt him as long as he stays quiet - the creatures’ hearing is terrible. He keeps his voice low, breathing the wordless tune of a lullaby he used to sing to Mikey, back when they were young and still afraid of the dark.

That fear never left, but at least now they’re old enough to pretend that it has.

Gerard’s ducking between a pair of trunks when he hears a branch snap. It’s followed by a sound that makes his blood run cold: a throaty, rasping cough, like air being sucked in through dying lungs and spat back out. 

They’ve found him. 

Gerard blows out the light immediately. The world plunges into darkness. He stuffs the lantern back into his bag and breaks into a sprint. There’s no time for caution. This is one of the first things he learned about traveling - if you hear that sound, you run. You don’t wait. You don’t listen. You run, and if you’re able to, you pray.

Gerard hurtles over the roots, his instincts urging him on at a frantic pace. There’s no way of knowing if he put out the light in time. All he can do is keep racing forward. He listens hard for movement behind him, resisting the urge to look over his shoulder.

His boots hit the ground hard with every step. Gerard curses himself - their hearing may be awful, but they aren’t deaf. He probably led them right to him. He’s so fucking stupid. His legs burn with effort, but he keeps running. He has to lose them. He fucked up; now it’s time to face the consequences. Run, and escape with his life, or slow down and let them gut him.

It’s a long while before he lets himself ease up again. 

The silence creeps in slowly. Gerard gasps for breath, leaning against a tree while he gulps down huge lungfuls of air. That should be enough to get the thing off his trail. He looks back into the blackness behind him, squinting to make sure he hasn’t been followed. 

Nothing. He lets out a slow breath and turns to face forward again.

He sees only a streak of movement and a tooth-filled maw as the thing lunges for his throat.

Gerard screams and swings his knife at it. It jumps back and snarls, a low, guttural sound, like the scrape of an axe on a grindstone. All Gerard can see is its eyes, clouded white and somehow luminous, even in the dark. The thing circles him slowly, crawling like a hunched spider from root to root. Its eyes never leave his face. Gerard’s hand shakes as he holds out his knife. The thing retches again, hacking the evil out from its throat.

An answering hiss comes from somewhere behind Gerard.

He freezes.

He barely has time to whip around before a second creature rams into him. Gerard shrieks and stumbles, catching himself just in time to scramble away when it claws at his shirt. The first one lunges for him again, but he jabs his knife in its direction, and it backs away, hissing. He whips it back and forth between the two of them. Their twisted bodies heave with the rasps of their breath. Gerard is breathing heavily, too, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest.

He’s going to die here. There is absolutely no way he can get out of this without dying.

“I’m sorry, Mikey,” he chokes out. 

One of the creatures bares its teeth. It creeps towards him, advancing despite the threat of his knife. Gerard swallows hard. This is it. These are his last moments.

A soft chord rings out through the trees.

The creature wheezes and whips its head around. Its companion crawls up the trunk of a tree. Gerard stays where he is, clutching his knife with both hands. 

The music is just barely there. It’s an echo of strings, the ghost of a melody carried on the wind, but whatever it is, it makes the creatures snarl and hop from tree to tree, agitated. The tune gets faster, notes cascading over one another, and one of them lets out a hoarse, agonizing groan. It skitters to the ground and lopes off, vanishing into the dark almost instantly. The other is quick to follow.

Gerard’s breath comes in shallow gasps. His feet are frozen to the ground. He risks a glance in the direction the creatures went, but they don’t seem to be coming back. The sound of their raspy breath is gone. Instead, the gentle lilt of the music plays on. 

“Hello?” Gerard manages. His voice sticks in his throat. “Is - is somebody there?”

Almost as soon as he speaks, the music fades away into silence.

Gerard looks around once more, then bolts.

***

When Gerard steps out from the treeline, it’s like plunging into a new world. 

It’ll be night soon, thank goodness - the sun at high noon would have been blinding - but even at dusk, Silverdale is _bright_. The sky is a deep, saturated pink, the clouds flaming orange. Gerard turns around, and even the wood behind him doesn’t look so threatening. It seems hard to believe that only half an hour ago he had nearly died. Now, the only hint of darkness comes from further in the distance, where the canopies that surround his home rise up like black mountains.

“Hey!” a voice carries from afar. “You lost over there?”

Gerard turns back to the town. A man stands by the closest house, leaning on a curled staff. “You a traveler?” he calls. 

Gerard starts off in his direction. He stuffs the lantern back into his bag along with his knife, straightening his cloak as he approaches the stranger. Once in earshot, the man looks him up and down and asks, “What’s your business here?”

“I’m looking for Ray Toro,” Gerard explains. “He should have arrived here a week ago, have you seen him?”

The man raises his eyebrows. “You know Toro? You must be from Neverdawn, then. How are things back in the shadows?”

“Not good. My brother’s sick,” Gerard says. “Have you seen Ray? I need to find him as quickly as possible.”

The man turns over his shoulder, looking down the cobblestone road. “Well, I haven’t seen him myself, but I know he’s here somewhere. Last I heard, he was tending to the Hawthornes’ kid.”

“Do you know where I could find him?”

The man shrugs. “He’ll always turn up if you look for him. I’d start on the south road, though - he should be in that neighborhood.”

Gerard nods. “Thank you, that helps a lot.” He shakes the man’s hand, then hurries for the southern end of town. He keeps his bag at his side, half-covered by his cloak so the outline of his lantern isn’t visible. Even so, he gets a few stares. His pale skin, the way he squints in the light; he might as well be wearing a banner declaring his birthplace. He hears the whispers. He’s heard them all before.

_”From Neverdawn, that one must be.”_

_”Should we let him stay? What if he brings the curse on us?”_

Gerard makes it to the main road before he has to stop and ask for directions. A small woman points him in the direction of a house with a shingled roof, then draws her shawl around her shoulders and practically flees in the opposite direction. Gerard ignores it and goes to knock on the door of the house.

A woman with tired eyes opens it. The usual recognition appears in her expression as she looks him over. “Neverdawn?” she says. “You must be here for Toro.”

Gerard nods. “I need to bring him home, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t. He’s already finished his work here.” She beckons him inside. “Come in, come in. I’m Eileen. Toro’s been looking after my youngest, Laurie - he’s out getting water for her, he should be back soon. Are you a friend of his?”

Gerard steps inside and closes the door behind him. “A close friend,” he says. “We grew up together.”

Eileen nods. “I take it you’re not here on a pleasure trip, then.”

Gerard follows her into the den. “My brother’s sick,” he says. “He’s been coughing for days now.”

Eileen makes a sympathetic noise and sits down on the sofa. She gestures to the armchair beside her, and Gerard takes a seat. He sinks deep into the cushion with a sigh and drops his pack on the floor. “My Laurie was doing just awful,” Eileen says with a smile. “Fever, stomachache, the works. Toro fixed her right up, though. He says he’s not a sorcerer, but I’m not so sure; he certainly seems to work miracles. I’m sure he can help your brother.”

“I’m hoping you’re right,” Gerard says. 

The pitter-patter of footsteps comes from the hall, and a boy’s face pops into view. He looks at Gerard, then down at his satchel, then up at Gerard again. His eyes boggle. “Are you from _Neverdawn_?” he blurts out. 

“Rowan!” Eileen says, appalled. “Is that how we greet people?”

Rowan keeps gaping at Gerard. Gerard moves one leg in front of his bag, averting his eyes. “Our doctor’s from Neverdawn, too,” Rowan says, moving a little closer. “Is it really always nighttime there?”

“Rowan!” Eileen hisses. “Your manners!”

“It’s all right,” Gerard says awkwardly. “I’m - I’m used to it.”

“Well, that’s an awful shame! People ought to have more decency.” Eileen gets up and marches Rowan down the hall. When she returns, she sits back down with a huff. “Boys. I’m so sorry for my son’s behavior, Mister - oh, I don’t believe I caught your name?”

“You can call me Gerard.”

“Gerard. I’m so sorry about my son. He adores Ray, really - we all do. Any friend of Ray Toro’s is a friend of mine. It’s just that… well, I’m sure you know.”

Gerard does. Everyone knows Neverdawn - the city of eternal night. Any time he comes out of the woods, the buzz follows him wherever he goes. Neverdawn is an enigma, a dark blot in the otherwise-light country. A curse. He can see why his presence would make people uneasy.

The back door opens with a bump. Ray comes inside, carrying a bucket of water. “Gerard!” he says, surprised. “What are you doing here?” 

“Mikey’s sick,” Gerard says heavily. “It’s bad. You need to come back and look at him.” 

Ray hesitates. “Laurie hasn’t fully recovered yet - “

“Oh, go on,” Eileen says with a wave of her hand. “She’ll be fine. You go where you’re needed most, and right now, that’s at home.”

Ray carefully sets down his bucket. “With all due respect, Mrs. Hawthorne - “

“Eileen,” Eileen says briskly. “You’d best get a move on, it’s almost nightfall.” She gets up and takes a lantern from the table. “This is yours, I believe.”

Ray nods. “Thank you. I’ll be back next week to check in on Laurie.”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary. She was complaining about her food being too cold, I expect she’ll be fine by morning. But if you ever want to stop by and visit, our door is always open.” Eileen goes over to Ray and hugs him. “Safe travels, Ray.”

“Thank you,” he says, hugging her back. “Until next time, then.”

He lets her go and takes his lantern, beckoning to Gerard. “Let’s go. Who are we waiting on?”

Gerard winces. “Oh. About that.”

Ray’s eyes go wide. “Gerard.”

“He was doing so badly, and there was no one else around - “

“Please tell me you didn’t come alone.”

Instead of answering, Gerard picks up his lantern and darts out the door. He has a split second of peace before Ray comes after him. The door thumps shut behind them. “What the hell were you thinking?” Ray demands. “What’s the _first_ rule of traveling around here?”

“Don’t leave the light on too long?” Gerard says weakly. 

“Okay, fine, second rule - you don’t go alone! Especially not at night! Seriously, Gerard, what were you thinking?”

“It’s not night yet!” Gerard argues. Above them, the sky is shifting from bright pink to a bruised purple, the sun having sunk below the horizon. Ray gives him a look. He’s right, of course - Gerard’s brush with the creatures is enough evidence of that. But Gerard’s not about to tell Ray that he nearly got himself killed. It’d scare him to death, and earn Gerard the lecture of a lifetime on top of it all. 

Gerard deflates. “I didn’t have any other choice,” he says helplessly. “I already waited as long as I could. Mikey needs you.”

Ray looks like he wants to keep chewing Gerard out, but he looks over at the woods and the darkening sky, and Gerard sees his resolve crumble. “We’d better get moving, then,” he says.

***

Gerard keeps one hand on Ray’s arm as they move through the darkness. The forest doesn’t scare him any less when he’s got someone with him - if anything, it’s worse. Gerard’s attention is split between staying close to Ray and listening for movement in the trees. If he fails at either of those tasks, they’re both done for. There’s no way he can escape a second time.

Ray climbs up a steep root and lingers at the top, setting down the lantern to help Gerard climb over after him. The rough bark scratches at Gerard’s palms. “What’s wrong with Mikey?” Ray whispers once he’s reached the top.

Gerard drops down to the other side of the root. The ground crunches under his feet. “I don’t know,” he admits. “He’s been sick for a few days now. It’s… bad. Maybe it’ll be better when we’re back, though.” The words are empty; there’s no way Mikey will have miraculously recovered overnight. Gerard’s chest is weighted with hollow hope.

“Has he been vomiting?” Ray asks. “Headache, sore throat, anything like that?”

Gerard shakes his head. “It’s… everything, Ray.”

The silence of the wood is eerie. The air is thick and still, like a room that hasn’t been entered for years. Gerard and Ray must be the only living creatures for miles.

Hopefully, at least.

Gerard exhales slowly. “Ray,” he says. “You don’t think it could be… He’s not going to turn out like the lost ones, is he?”

Ray shakes his head. “He’s just sick, Gerard. Not cursed.”

“But you know how it is,” Gerard insists. “Every five years, like clockwork, there’s always someone. It’s been about that long since Fay died, hasn’t it?”

“It’s just a coincidence, Gee. Mikey’s sick, but I’m going to help him, okay?” Ray reaches for Gerard’s hand and squeezes it. “He’s going to be fine.”

Gerard swallows hard. He keeps a tight grip on Ray’s hand, looking up at the endless void surrounding them. 

The forest is even darker than Neverdawn. Here, he can’t even see the stars.

The silence seems like a physical part of the wood. It breaks like cobwebs as they walk and clings to them, trailing behind in a rippling veil. It wraps around Gerard’s throat, thickening the air. He couldn’t speak if he tried. His every thought is fixed on Mikey. Sometimes he thinks he sees the edge of the woods, and his heart leaps, but it’s only ever a figment of his imagination.

When the music begins, he thinks it’s his imagination, too.

It starts out soft, a few notes plucked from an unseen string. Then a few more. They melt together, melodies and harmonies entwining to sing a song of melancholy. Gerard’s steps slow, and he finds himself looking up into the blackness, transfixed. 

Ray grabs his arm. “What the hell is that?” he hisses. “Is there someone else in here?”

“There must be,” Gerard whispers back. The last time he heard the music play, he’d been inches from death, but somehow, this feels different. It stirs an ache within him the likes of which he’s never felt before. It’s not a swan song, but a sorrow made audible. A star-crossed lover’s ode to the night.

“Do you think it could be the creatures?” Ray whispers. “I’ve heard stories of them using false lights to lure in travelers.”

Gerard shakes his head. “I don’t think it’s them.”

“Then what is it?”

The music washes over Gerard’s skin in a wave of warmth. He closes his eyes, letting the notes sink deep into his chest. 

“I don’t know,” he murmurs. “But it’s beautiful.”

***

Gerard hovers in the doorway, watching Ray dab at a sleeping Mikey’s forehead with a warm cloth. “Well?” he says anxiously.

Ray glances up at him. “It’ll be all right, Gerard. Just go downstairs, okay? I’ll let you know when I’m done.”

Gerard bites his lip. “But - “

“He’s not going to keel over as soon as you leave the room. Go on.”

Gerard gives Mikey a fleeting glance and backs out of the room.

***

Ray closes the door with a quiet click. Gerard rushes up to him. “Is he okay?” he asks. “Or, will he be? What’s wrong with him?”

Ray is quiet. He glances up at Gerard, his gaze heavy with something Gerard can’t comprehend. Gerard’s throat constricts.

“I don’t know,” Ray says. “You were right. It’s bad. But don’t lose heart; just because I don’t know exactly what’s causing it doesn’t mean I can’t fix it.”

Gerard fights to keep his voice even when he says, “So you think he’ll recover?”

Ray takes too long to answer. “I hope so,” he finally says. 

Gerard takes a breath to steady himself. “Well, if nothing else works, you could - ” he begins, then starts over: “Look, I don’t trust myself to do it, I’d just end up hurting him, but I think you could try - 

Ray sees through him in an instant. He shakes his head. “I don’t work with magic, Gerard. It’s too dangerous.”

“Couldn’t you at least try?” Gerard says desperately. “Just a simple spell - anything?”

The look in Ray’s eyes is edging too close to pity. “I’m not trained, Gee, you know that. I could make him worse, or…” He doesn’t go on. Gerard can fill in the blanks for himself. He knows how dangerous magic can be, how it can corrode an amateur from the inside out. Of course he doesn’t want Ray to risk his life - but he doesn’t want Mikey’s at risk, either.

“I’m sorry,” Ray says, squeezing his shoulder gently. He moves past Gerard and goes down the stairs. Gerard stays frozen in place, staring into the shadows. 

When he finally has control of his own limbs back, he pushes the door to Mikey’s room open. Mikey’s turned over on his side, all the blankets pushed to the foot of the bed. A jug of water sits on the nightstand. Gerard pulls up a chair and sits, resting his chin in his hands.

He’ll spend the whole night there if he has to.

In the end, he doesn’t have to. Mikey shifts and rolls over to face him. “Gerard?” he says blearily, his eyes squinting open.

“Hey,” Gerard says softly. “How’re you feeling?”

“Mmm. Tired.” Mikey yawns. “What’d Ray say?”

Gerard takes a deep breath. It’s a good thing Mikey’s so out of it; if he wasn’t, he would’ve noticed any trace of hesitation in Gerard’s answer.

“He said you’re gonna be fine,” Gerard says. “Just fine. Get some sleep, okay?”

“Hmm.” Mikey’s eyes flutter shut. Within minutes, he’s breathing deeply again. 

Gerard gets up and goes back to his own room to retrieve his blanket and pillow. He sets them up on the floor of Mikey’s room. He’s not leaving until Mikey’s better.

As he drifts off to sleep, he almost thinks he hears music in the distance.

***

After a few days, the cough has worsened into a fever, and a bad one at that. Mikey’s forehead burns hot to the touch. One minute he’s shivering, and the next he pushes all his blankets to the foot of his bed. He stares up at the ceiling, his eyes glazed over, mumbling something about candles under his breath. 

Gerard’s going to wear a track in the floor if he keeps pacing much longer.

“You should go,” Ray says, wringing a washcloth out into a bucket of water. “We don’t know if he’s contagious. You’ll be no help to him if you get sick too.”

Gerard glances over at Mikey. “I can’t just leave,” he says. “Not when he’s like this.”

“He’s not going to - “

“But he could.” Gerard stops pacing to point at Ray. “You said he was going to get better, but he’s only gotten worse. How do you know something won’t happen if I leave?”

Ray sighs. “These things take time, Gerard.”

“It’s been three days!”

“And it’s going to be a few more before he gets better,” Ray says calmly. “That’s the way sickness works. You have to wait it out, and it’s awful, but then it goes away in the end.”

“Are you sure this is sickness?” Gerard says quietly.

Ray sighs again. “Gerard - “

“All I’m saying is, I feel like we should be exploring other options,” Gerard says. “If he’s cursed, the only thing that can help him is magic. He needs a sorcerer.”

“Well, it’s a good thing sorcerers are so abundant in this town,” Ray says sarcastically. 

Gerard glares. “I can find one!”

“You don’t need to!” Ray throws down his washcloth, exasperated. “Gerard, Mikey is sick. He needs rest and medicine, not magic. Why can’t you just trust me on this? Have I ever lied to you before?”

“No,” Gerard says, looking away. “But this is…”

This is his brother’s life. 

Ray waves his hand. “Go, then,” he says, scowling. “Find your sorcerer. At least it’ll get you out of my hair. But don’t do anything that could put him in more danger, all right?”

Gerard walks out and lets the door slam shut behind him.

Ray is right - it’s going to be hard to find someone with even an ounce of magical ability around here. Gerard could always try Silverdale, or maybe Blackburn, but then he’d have to make the trip through the woods, and every second he’s away from Mikey is one second too many. 

Gerard stops walking.

Maybe he _does_ know where to find someone powerful. Someone powerful to drive away a pair of creatures, at least - and he can’t imagine any power stronger than that.

***

The trees loom ahead in a black row. Gerard mentally runs through his list for the millionth time. He has his knife, lantern, food, water, and bandages; that should keep him covered for a day or so. Ideally, he’d have a traveling companion, but his brother and his best friend are both occupied. Besides, he was alone last time, and in order for this to work, he’s aiming to recreate the situation as closely as possible. Minus the near-death experience, of course.

Gerard shoulders his bag and steps into the shadows.

He starts a course towards Silverdale. He’s heard the music twice now on this route; it seems like his best option. Hopefully it’ll work. If it doesn’t, he’ll have to go off in an entirely new direction - which would make this trip all the more dangerous. 

It doesn’t help that no one knows where he is, either. He couldn’t tell Ray, not after they’d argued, and Mikey… Gerard’s heart squeezes. He didn’t _want_ to leave - he still has half a mind to turn around - but something deep within him urges him onward. It’s strong enough to overpower his anxiety. It pulls him forward like a magnet through the trees, searching blindly for a sign that he isn’t alone. 

Gerard makes it all the way to Silverdale without hearing anything. He considers stopping there, but he can’t afford to waste time; he has to get home to Mikey. He turns back into the forest and sets back the way he came. This time, though, he doesn’t stick to the trail he knows. When he’s about halfway home, he changes directions, heading deeper into the woods.

He walks for what feels like hours. His bag weighs heavy on his back. Once his feet start aching, Gerard stops and leans back against a tree, sliding down so he can sit and rest with his back to it. “Fuck,” he says under his breath. This is going to be more difficult than he expected.

He reaches into his bag and pulls out his food. He breaks a loaf of bread in half and chews it slowly. He’ll have to be careful with his food supplies; this is all he has, and he doesn’t know how long he’s going to be out here. He might not hear the music for hours.

That is, if he hears it at all. 

Gerard wraps the bread back up and sticks it into his bag. He’s not hungry anymore.

***

If there’s one thing Gerard won’t do, it’s sleep in the forest. He’s crazy enough to come out here alone, but he’s not suicidal.

He’s starting to regret turning away from Silverdale. The darkness makes it harder to keep himself awake. He finds himself slowing down, blinking too often. If there was ever a time to light the lantern, it’s now - but every time he reaches for a match, he ends up putting it back. Just a few more minutes, he tells himself. He can make it.

One minute he’s walking, and the next, he wakes up nestled in the roots of a tree.

Gerard jumps to his feet, his heart hammering against his ribs. He grabs for a match and strikes it against the tree. The lantern flares up, and he holds it high, swinging it around so he can see the area around him.

Once he’s sure there are no creatures creeping up on him, he lowers it with a sigh.

This might have been a bad idea.

Gerard’s about to turn around and head home when he hears a sound. A single tone, high and unbroken, like a string being put into tune. He listens hard, and it comes again. Higher, then lower, and then the notes finally coalesce into music.

Gerard grabs his bag and runs toward it.

The pull has gotten even stronger. It’s almost physical now, like there’s a line hooked into his chest. It yanks him faster and faster through the trees. Gerard jumps over roots and pushes through branches, ignoring the way they scratch at his face and hands. He can’t tell where the music is coming from. It fills his ears from the left, the right, from every direction. It’s always distant, never clear. It’s everywhere and nowhere.

And then it stops.

“Hello?” Gerard calls out, holding the lantern higher. “Is somebody there?”

“You know, it takes a special kind of stupid to come into the woods alone,” says a voice from somewhere overhead. “But doing it twice? That’s got to be a new record.”

Gerard looks up. Sitting on a root a ways above him is a man. He has his legs crossed, a guitar sitting in his lap. His back rests against the tree trunk as casually as if Gerard had just walked in on him sitting in his living room. He runs his fingers across the strings of his guitar, and notes fall like raindrops. 

“You would have died, last time,” he says nonchalantly. “You’re lucky I was around.”

“So it _was_ you,” Gerard says, unable to mask his wonder. “How did you do that? It was magic, right?”

The man snorts. “No, they just hate being serenaded.”

Gerard pauses.

“Yes, it was magic, what the hell else would it have been?” the man says impatiently. 

“I don’t know,” Gerard says, his face heating up a little. “I don’t know who you are, I didn’t want to assume. So, you’re a sorcerer, then, right?”

The man smirks. “Yeah, let’s go with that.”

Some of the tension unwinds from Gerard’s shoulders. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all. “Okay,” he says, lowering the lantern to the ground. “I know we’ve only just met, but I came looking for you because I have a favor to ask. My brother - “

“A favor?” the man interrupts. “Seriously?”

Gerard blinks. “You saved my life,” he says, uncertain. “I thought maybe you could help - “

“Exactly,” the man says, scowling. “I saved your life once already, and that was only because I was feeling generous. You want to know what saved you? Huh?” Gerard shrinks back a little, and the man goes on: “That song. You were humming it. It’s been a damn long time since I’ve heard music, and I thought, hey, I’ll give this guy a break. But if it hadn’t been for that, they would’ve torn you to shreds.”

Gerard flinches. “Sorry,” he says. Now he’s gone and done it. He doesn’t even know who this person _is_ , just that they’re powerful - there’s a chance he should be a little more respectful.

The man looks like he’s thinking the exact same thing. He leans forward, shifting his guitar to look down at Gerard. “Now, since I was kind enough to do you a favor, you do one for me,” he orders. “There’s a town somewhere around here. Do you know where it is?”

“Um…” Gerard chooses his words carefully. “There are a few towns around here. Could you be more specific?”

The man shakes his head. “A few,” he mutters under his breath. “One was enough, they’re like a fucking infestation.” He looks back to Gerard. “All right, what are my choices?”

This one Gerard can answer. “Silverdale’s the closest,” he says helpfully. “And then there’s Neverdawn and Blackburn.”

The man sighs. “Yeah, that doesn’t… Okay. Thanks.“

He looks disappointed. The last thing Gerard wants to do is get on his bad side. Before he even thinks about it, he says, “I could take you to Neverdawn. That’s where I’m from.”

The man smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I can’t; I have to go home.”

“Are you sure?” Gerard asks. “It’s not too far.” He hesitates - to continue seems pushy, and testing a sorcerer is never wise. But if this man has really been in the woods since he saved Gerard, then he hasn’t seen a bed in at least three days. 

“I know a place you could stop and rest, if you wanted,” he says cautiously. “There’s food, and a bed you could use. I’m sure it’s been a long time.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been home,” the man says. “I have to keep moving. Thank you, though. That’s… very generous of you.” He furrows his brow. “Wait, you’re not just trying to trick me into doing that favor, are you?”

“No!” Gerard says quickly. “No, of course not. I just - I know how hard it can be out here. We have to help each other when we can, right? One traveler to another?” He slides his pack off his shoulder and reaches into it, pulling out his half-loaf of bread. “Here. If you won’t come, at least take this.”

He holds it up.

The man gives Gerard an odd look. He takes his guitar in one hand and slides down the root, landing neatly on the forest floor. On even ground, he’s a few inches shorter than Gerard, but something still compels Gerard to avert his eyes. He can almost feel the aura of power around the man. It makes the air tingle with magic. 

“This is yours,” the man says, giving Gerard a curious look. “You’re just… giving it to me?”

Gerard nods. 

The man takes the bread from him, looking it over thoughtfully. “You know, I don’t think I caught your name,” he says. 

“It’s Gerard,” Gerard says. “You?”

“Frank,” the man says. His eyes dance with the reflection of the lantern flame. It’s mesmerizing. Gerard feels like he’s being sucked into them, powerless to resist their orbit. 

Frank smiles and adjusts his guitar strap over his shoulder. “Thanks, Gerard,” he says. In the blink of an eye, he scales the root once more, hops over the edge, and vanishes.

***

If Gerard had any hope of slipping back inside unnoticed, it’s shattered as soon as he steps through the front door. Mikey’s sitting at the kitchen table with Ray at his side; it looks like they’ve been there for a while. He looks fucking exhausted, but he still has enough strength to level his best death glare at Gerard. 

It might have been safer for Gerard to stay in the forest.

“Hi, guys,” he says weakly.

“You know,” Mikey says pleasantly, “Most people would tell their families before running off to get themselves killed. Or at least leave a note. A note would have been nice.”

Gerard winces. “I know, and I’m sorry, but - “

“That’s twice now you’ve gone out alone. If you need some sort of help, please just _talk_ to me instead of throwing yourself to the - “

“It’s not like that!” Gerard protests. “I was just trying to help you!”

“Where the hell did you go?” Mikey demands. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“Of _us_ ,” Ray adds.

“I was…” Gerard hesitates. He can feel Ray watching him. Guilt burns its way through him, bringing a flush to his cheeks. 

“I thought magic might be a good idea,” he mumbles.

Ray sighs. “Oh, come on, Gee - “

“You can’t go risking your life on the off chance it might help me!” Mikey says, throwing his hands up. “Ray’s doing his best! And even if that’s not enough, I’m not asking you to go down with the fucking ship, okay?”

“We don’t need one more thing to worry about,” Ray says.

“Exactly,” Mikey says, scowling. “I just want you here. That’s all I need.”

There are heavy bags beneath his eyes, shadows darker than the sky over Neverdawn. He looks like he hasn’t slept since Gerard left. And he’s still so pale.

“I’m sorry,” Gerard whispers.

“I know that,” Mikey says with a sigh. “You’re always sorry. Dumbass.”

“Just don’t do it again,” Ray adds. 

Gerard nods meekly. 

“Okay, then. Come on, let’s get you back in bed.” Ray takes Mikey by the arm and helps him up. Gerard rushes to his other side. Mikey looks at him for a long moment, and Gerard almost thinks he’s going to shrug him off. 

But he lets Gerard guide him up the stairs, and as he drops down into his bed, he gives Gerard a small smile. 

Gerard figures all is forgiven.

***

Gerard pokes at the fire. It sputters out heat as one of the logs falls from the top of the pile. Gerard lets the poker fall back to the ground with a clunk and keeps pacing. 

He can still hear Mikey retching upstairs. It makes him want to tear his hair out - he needs to _do_ something, to make that awful sound stop, but Ray’s banished him to the first floor. “Stop hovering,” he’d said wearily. “Just go downstairs, try and get some sleep. You can’t do anything to help here.”

Gerard knows he can’t help. That’s what’s driving him crazy.

The fever came on overnight. Gerard thought Mikey was bad before, but me he can't even stand through the tremors. Ray forced Gerard out of the room sometime after Mikey started coughing up blood. It’s been hours now, and he hasn’t stopped. 

Gerard glances over at the timekeeper on the kitchen table. It’s the middle of the night. Ray was right, he really should be sleeping, but he just can’t. There’s too much going on in his head, between Mikey and his illness and Frank.

Frank.

By this point, he’s Mikey’s only chance. A little bit of magic could bring his fever down, or ease his cough, just enough to guarantee he’ll see another day. Gerard should’ve brought him to Neverdawn when he had the chance. He’s probably made his way back home by now, somewhere far off where Gerard will never be able to find him. 

Gerard takes up the poker again and jabs it into the fire, hard enough to make the blackened logs crumble. The heat sears his skin, but he doesn’t care; he’ll take anything to get him out of his head.

He looks over his shoulder at the staircase.

In a split second, he’s dropped the poker and bolted.

He throws open the door to Mikey’s room. “How is he?” he says anxiously. 

Ray doesn’t seem to hear. He’s leaning over the bed, trying to get a spoon into Mikey’s mouth. Mikey shakes his head wildly. His eyes are focused in another world. “It was his home first,” he says. “For as long as he’s lost, they’ll join him - a soul for a soul - “

“You have to eat this,” Ray says patiently. “It’ll help with the deliriousness.”

“They shouldn’t have made him - “

“Mikey, please.”

Gerard slowly shuts the door. He leans against the wall, his mind reeling. The lump in his throat threatens to choke him. His brother is slipping further away every minute, and what is he doing? What _can_ he do? There has to be something.

The door creaks open. Gerard hastily wipes at his eyes as Ray comes out to join him. 

“Gerard,” Ray says. “We need to talk.”

Gerard wraps his arms tightly around himself. There had been so much fear in Mikey’s eyes. Blind panic, inconsolable by any human comfort. 

That must be a symptom they share.

“What is it?” he says, not looking at Ray.

Ray clears his throat. “Let’s go down here,” he mutters, and leads Gerard further down the hall. He stops at the top of the staircase. 

“I think you may have been right,” he says quietly. “I wanted to believe I could fix it, but I was lying to the both of us, and I’m sorry.” 

It feels like a punch to the gut. Gerard has to put a hand back against the wall to steady himself. “What are you saying?” he asks, his voice shaking.

Ray shakes his head helplessly. “I think he - “

Gerard’s stomach wrenches. He takes it back; he doesn’t want to hear it. “No, please,” he says desperately, but Ray’s already -

“I think he’s going to be a lost one,” Ray says helplessly. “I’m sorry.”

Gerard shakes his head. “No,” he says. “He can’t be. That’s…”

“The symptoms all line up,” Ray says. “The coughing, the fever, and now the hallucinations, too. There isn’t any other explanation.”

Gerard can’t breathe. A dull numbness floods through his body like ice. He sees Ray’s lips moving, but none of it comes through; the only thing he can process is the feeling of incomprehensible _wrongness_.

This can’t be happening.

“Gerard?” says Ray’s worried voice. His hand is on Gerard’s shoulder; when did it get there? “Gerard, listen - “

“What can we do?” 

Ray falls silent. “I think the best thing we can do is stay with him,” he says slowly. “But if… If you’re up to it, I think you should talk to Fay’s family.”

Gerard furrows his brow. “What?”

Ray shrugs, looking uncomfortable. “She was the last one to disappear. I was still an apprentice back then, so I never got to see the full extent of her illness, but… her parents would know more about this than anyone else. They might be able to tell you… y’know. What to expect.”

Gerard tunes out most of what Ray says. He’s gotten what he needs. “That’s right,” he says, and a spark of hope appears. “They’d know what to do better than anybody!” He makes to dart down the stairs, but Ray grabs his arm.

“Gerard,” he says. “I think it might be best if you… This isn’t a good time for you to leave. You might not get another chance.”

“Exactly,” Gerard says fiercely, and rips his arm free from Ray’s grasp.

***

They say that nothing hurts more than the loss of a child. That may well be true, but Gerard is facing the loss of his brother, and he’s not eager to find out which is worse. This is no time for delicacy.

He bangs on the door as loudly as he can. After a second, he bangs his fist against it again, harder this time. Just as he’s preparing for a third attempt, the door opens. An older woman looks up at Gerard, bewildered. She opens her mouth, but Gerard cuts her off.

“My brother’s caught the curse,” he says. “I need your help.”

Her mouth hangs open for a second more before closing abruptly. “That was an awfully long time ago,” she begins, but then a man appears behind her.

“Go on, let the boy in,” he says. “We would have needed it, too.”

The woman glances over her shoulder. “Silas - “

“Let him in, Meredith.”

Meredith looks at the ground, brushing her gray-streaked hair back behind her ear. “Well,” she says quietly. “I suppose you should come in, then.”

Gerard steps inside. “I’m sorry to trouble you, but it really is urgent,” he says anxiously. “We thought maybe he was just sick, and now it might be too late to - “ He doesn’t finish the thought. It’s not too late. Not as long as he has a say in it. “What can you tell me about the curse?” he asks instead.

Meredith bites her lip, but says nothing. Silas moves toward the kitchen and motions for Gerard to follow. “What’s your name?” he asks. 

“Gerard,” Gerard says quickly. “Gerard Way. But my brother - “

“Yes, yes. I understand how scared you must be. We were, too.” Silas opens a cabinet and takes down a teakettle. “Forgive my wife,” he says heavily. “She was devastated, after we lost Fay. We both were, of course, but… she doesn’t like to discuss it.”

Meredith disappears down the hall. Silas gazes after her for a moment, sighs, and begins to fill the kettle with water. “So it’s your brother, hm?” 

Gerard nods. “I was hoping you could tell me more about the sickness.”

“Well, I imagine it started with the cough. That’s how it was with Fay.” Silas walks over to the stove, where a small fire is blazing. He nestles the kettle in among the coals. “And then comes every symptom imaginable. It progresses that way; every time you think it can’t get worse, it does.”

“But what happens next?” Gerard presses. 

Silas looks back at him. The pity in his eyes makes Gerard’s skin crawl. He doesn’t need pity; Mikey isn’t gone yet. 

“Next,” Silas says, “He’ll be angry. Fay nearly killed us before she went. She was always after the light. Candles, lanterns, anything. She was delusional, of course - all she ever talked about was revenge.”

Gerard swallows hard. “And then?”

Silas leans against the kitchen counter. He examines Gerard closely. “Are you sure you want to hear this?” he says finally.

“Yes,” Gerard whispers.

Silas sighs. “There’s not much to it, I’m afraid,” he says quietly. “He’ll just keep getting weaker and sicker and meaner, and then one morning, he’ll just be… gone.”

“But what can I _do_?” Gerard bursts out. “There must be something! It’s been years since Fay died; surely you’ve found out _something_ about what killed her?” His skin itches with the need to get back home, but he can’t leave without knowing. 

Meredith appears in the entrance to the kitchen. “The only person who can lift a curse is the one who cast it,” she says flatly. “And no one knows who cursed Neverdawn.”

She sweeps out of the room, and Gerard feels his heart sink lower and lower, like a stone to the bottom of the ocean.

***

When Gerard comes inside, the room is unusually bright. The candle and lantern are both sitting on the table, glowing with light, but the air still feels cold. Mikey is sitting on the edge of the bed with Ray at his side. Ray beckons Gerard closer, his expression unreadable. 

Gerard steps forward, leaning in toward Mikey. “Mikey?” he whispers. “How’re you feeling?”

Mikey doesn’t respond. Hix expression is almost hungry; he hasn’t looked away from the candle once. 

“Mikey,” Gerard says again.

“He can’t hear you,” Ray says quietly. “I’ve been trying.”

Gerard stops. “What do you mean, he can’t hear me?”

“I mean, he can’t hear you. He’s in too deep.” Ray’s voice cracks, and Gerard realizes with a start that he’s been crying. For a second, it doesn’t compute - Ray is always the one to put a positive spin on things, to wear a smile until the end. 

If he’s given up hope, then there’s nothing to be done. 

But that doesn’t mean Gerard can’t try. Mikey is too important, too _loved_ to disappear now. 

Gerard takes the lantern from the table. “I’m going out,” he says. 

Ray sits upright. “Gerard,” he says, alarmed. “You can’t - “

“Don’t try and stop me,” Gerard says flatly. “I’m going to get help for Mikey. I’ll be back in a few hours. If I’m not, come in after me.”

Ray has gone pale. “I really don’t think you should leave right now,” he says. “What if Mikey - “

“I’ll be back before anything can go wrong,” Gerard says determinedly. He lifts the lantern and blows out the flame. 

“Don’t,” Mikey says immediately.

Gerard pauses. “What?”

“Don’t do that,” Mikey says, louder this time. “Why’d you do that? Put it back.”

Gerard slowly lowers the lantern. “Why?” he asks. Something feels off, but he’s not sure what it is.

“Put it back,” Mikey repeats. He stands up and walks toward Gerard until their faces are mere inches apart. The candle casts eerie shadows across his face. He reaches for the lantern, but Gerard holds it back.

“Tell me why,” he says. His heart beats lightning quick, testing the limits of Mikey’s blank expression. 

“I want it,” Mikey growls. He reaches for the lantern once more, but Gerard pulls it out of his reach. 

“Gerard,” Ray says worriedly. “Maybe you should - “

“I’ll bring it back when I’m done,” Gerard says carefully. “But right now, I’m going.”

A look of anger flashes across Mikey’s face. It only lasts a split second, but it’s all the confirmation Gerard needs. Whatever this is, this magic, this corruption - it’s not his brother.

Mikey makes another grab for the light. Gerard jumps back, and Mikey crashes into him, pinning him to the wall. “Give it back!” he snarls. Gerard stretches his arm as high as he can, but Mikey has the height advantage; he almost manages to snatch it before Gerard yanks it down again. He clutches it to his chest and races for the door.

He almost doesn’t make it. Mikey lunges for him and grabs the back of his shirt, but Ray is there in a flash; he wraps his arms around Mikey from behind to hold him back. Mikey thrashes against his grip. “Let me go!” he howls. 

“Gerard, go!” Ray shouts. Gerard looks back at Mikey, torn. His face is contorted with fury as he writhes to free himself. He looks up at Gerard, and his eyes blaze with a primal rage Gerard has never seen in him before. 

“Go!” Ray yells.

Gerard takes the light and runs. Mikey screams after him, but halfway through, his voice breaks into a horrible, retching cough. 

And even as he runs, Gerard has to fight back tears, knowing he’s leaving a piece of himself behind.

***

Gerard doesn’t stop running until he reaches the forest. Even then, he’s careless; twigs snap beneath his feet as he hurries through the trees, and once, he’s even daring enough to raise his voice and call out, “Hello?”

He prays with every bone in his body that Frank is still there.

Meredith might think that the curse is incurable, but Gerard doesn’t believe it. Meredith has reason to be hopeless. Her daughter died. But Mikey’s still alive - and with Frank’s magic, Gerard can keep him that way. He just has to find Frank.

He throws caution to the wind and lights a match. “Hello?” he calls again. “Is anyone there?”

He listens hard for the pluck of strings. The silence rings in his ears.

But he’s forgotten something. 

Gerard thinks back to cold nights and howling wind, shadows flickering across the walls like living beings. He thinks of Mikey, covered in blankets like armor, his protection against the beasts of his imagination. Back before their parents died. Back before their uncle left, off to find someplace where he could see the day break in full color. 

It was just the two of them. And when Mikey cried out with fear, it was Gerard’s job to soothe him. 

Gerard hums to himself, an echo of the old refrain. It comes back easily. He’s protecting Mikey, just like always, in the only way he knows how. It has to be enough. 

And after only a minute or so, he finds his voice joined by the strum of a guitar.

“You came back,” Frank observes. “That was brave.”

Gerard looks up. Frank is reclined in a low branch, his guitar laying across his lap. “I’m assuming you were looking for me,” he says, picking absently at the strings. “Why?”

Gerard takes a deep breath. He only gets one shot at this; he’s not messing it up like before.

“My brother’s cursed,” he says. “He’s really, really sick, and if I don’t find a cure soon, he’s going to die. You were the only person I could think of who could help him. I know you don’t want to, but I swear, I’ll do anything you want, as long as - “

“I can’t,” Frank says.

Fuck.

“You don’t understand,” Gerard says desperately. “I’ll give you anything you ask for, _anything _\- “__

__Frank winces. “Gerard… I _would_ help you, okay?” He pauses. “Well, maybe. I honestly don’t care about one more cursed villager. But since it’s you, I’d consider it.” He sets his guitar aside and sits up. “Here’s the thing, though. I can’t help. The only person who can lift a curse - “_ _

__“Is the person who cast it,” Gerard says wearily. “I know. But isn’t there something you could do?”_ _

__Frank shifts uncomfortably. “Not really. It’s…” He sighs. “Look. I can’t leave the woods.”_ _

__“But - “_ _

__“No, I _literally_ can’t leave.” Frank looks at the ground and says, “I’m cursed, too.”_ _

__Gerard’s jaw drops. “What?”_ _

__“It was stupid,” Frank mutters. “It was _my_ land, they had no right to come and - nevermind, forget it. They’ve paid their price. The point is, I’ve been lost in this place for a long time, and I’m going to stay that way until I find my home again. That’s the only way I can get free.”_ _

__A wave of nausea crashes over Gerard. If Frank can’t help, then this has all been for nothing. He’s wasted precious time he could have spent with Mikey. Fuck, by the time he gets back, Mikey could be gone. Gerard would never see him again, and for what?_ _

__Frank clears his throat. “There might be something I could do, though,” he says._ _

__He has the same pity in his voice as Silas did, but Gerard can’t care about it now. “Really?” he says eagerly._ _

__“If you brought him to the edge of the woods, I could look him over,” Frank says slowly. “I’m not saying I can fix him. But it’s something, right?”_ _

__Gerard trips over himself in a rush to say, “Yes! Thank you so much, oh my God - “_ _

__“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get going, then?” Frank hops down and lands almost silently on the ground. “You lead the way,” he says, motioning for Gerard to start moving. “I don’t know where we’re going.”_ _

__“Neverdawn,” Gerard says. “It’s not too far from here.” He starts to lead Frank in the direction of home._ _

__Frank laughs. “Yeah, I think I remember you saying that. Why’s it called Neverdawn?”_ _

__Gerard pauses. He’s never had to explain it before - everyone always knows. If he wanted to, he could leave out the details or fabricate new ones, save himself from the odd looks and the questions._ _

__But Frank doesn’t seem like one to judge. Not when he’s got a curse over his own head, too._ _

__“It’s cursed,” Gerard says with a shrug. “It’s always nighttime there.”_ _

__“Really?” Frank says, surprised. “Always?” Gerard nods. “So you’ve never seen the sun?”_ _

__“No, I have.” Gerard holds a low branch out of the way and lets Frank pass in front of him. “There are other towns nearby; they’re not affected. But a lot of people are too scared to travel.” Which reminds him - he lifts the lantern and blows out the flame. Darkness falls over them like a heavy blanket._ _

__“No, don’t,” Frank says. “We don’t need to.” There’s a snapping noise, and the light reappears. Gerard stares._ _

__“Did you just - “_ _

__“Magic,” Frank says with a smirk._ _

__Gerard shakes off the surprise of it to ask, “Are you sure we should have that on? The creatures could - “_ _

__“Don’t worry. They’re more afraid of us than we are of them.”_ _

__Gerard stops walking. “Bullshit,” he accuses. “They could rip us apart like - “_ _

__Frank laughs. “Let me rephrase. They’re more afraid of _me_ than we are of them.” He snaps his fingers, and the lantern erupts in a flare of brilliance. Gerard looks away, squeezing his eyes shut._ _

__“I can’t tell if you’re crazy or just really stupid,” he says._ _

__“Neither,” Frank says lightly. “Try really powerful.”_ _

__Gerard shakes his head. “Power’s one thing, but this is…” He looks around. He can see deeper into the wood than ever before; the light reaches nearly fifty feet ahead. “This is asking for trouble,” he says, uneasy._ _

__“Trust me, it’s fine,” Frank says._ _

__Gerard glances at the light and has to look away again, wincing. The afterimage dances in front of his eyelids. “There is such thing as too much faith in the guardians, you know,” he says._ _

__For some reason, that cracks Frank up. “Not in my experience,” he says through his giggles. But after a moment, they trail off, and he sobers up again. “The ones you really can’t trust are people,” he says._ _

__Gerard tilts his head. “Why not? People aren’t so bad.”_ _

__Frank goes quiet as they come upon a root blocking their path. It’s a good few feet taller than Gerard. He digs his foot into a thick strip of bark and hauls himself up, the rough surface scratching his palms. Once he reaches the top, he jumps down to the ground with a loud crunch. Frank lands a moment after him. His boots barely make a sound._ _

__He still hasn’t answered the question. Gerard will have to tread cautiously._ _

__“You said you were cursed, right?” he asks._ _

__Frank tenses. “Yeah,” he says. He doesn’t elaborate. Gerard doesn’t know whether he should keep asking questions, but all he can do is try._ _

__“How come?” he asks._ _

__Frank takes a long time to respond._ _

__“My existence was inconvenient,” he finally says, an edge of bitterness in his tone._ _

__Gerard frowns. “That’s it?”_ _

__“Essentially,” Frank says with a shrug. “People were scared of me, I think.” And yeah, that’s definitely bitterness Gerard’s detecting, but it’s not entirely unfamiliar._ _

__“People are scared of me sometimes, too,” he admits. “Mostly when I go into other towns.”_ _

__Frank looks at him like he’s crazy. “What? Why?”_ _

__“‘Cause I’m from Neverdawn. I guess they’re scared the curse is contagious or something.” Gerard steps up onto a long root and walks along it, holding his arms out to keep his balance. The weight of the lantern makes him wobble a bit. “Either that, or they think we’re all evil,” he says. “Everybody thinks Neverdawn’s this awful place because of the darkness and the creatures and everything, but it’s not so bad.”_ _

__Sometimes, when the stares and the whispers get to be too much, it makes Gerard want to scream. For all the daylight the other villagers may have, they still can’t see past their own noses. Neverdawn is strange, and sometimes dangerous, but no one chose for it to be that way. Curse or no curse, it’s home._ _

__“They’re just scared, though,” he says, more quietly. “So I guess I can’t really blame them. If I didn’t know anything about the curse, I’d probably be scared of it, too.”_ _

__“You aren’t scared of it?” Frank says curiously._ _

__Gerard shakes his head. “Only certain parts of it. The dark’s okay. It’s just…” He thinks of Mikey, and it sends a pang through his chest. “I just don’t want anyone to get hurt,” he says softly._ _

__He steps down from the root to walk beside Frank, who’s watching him closely. Gerard can feel the weight of his gaze, but doesn’t return it._ _

__“Are all the people from your town like you?” Frank asks._ _

__Gerard looks over at him at last. “What do you mean, like me?”_ _

__“Forgiving,” Frank says simply. “Good. It’s been a long time since I met someone so good.”_ _

__Gerard’s face heats up. “I’m not - “_ _

__“You are. I can tell.” Frank takes the lantern from Gerard and holds it up, squinting out into the trees. “Where is your town, anyway? We must be getting close.”_ _

__“I think we are,” Gerard says. And sure enough, it’s only a few minutes before they come across a thick, ancient tree - Gerard’s north star. He always uses it to find his way home. Its longest branch points directly toward Neverdawn._ _

__“We’re almost there,” he says. “I’ll bring Mikey out as soon as I get home.”_ _

__Frank nods. “What happened to him, anyway? Did he piss off a sorcerer or something?”_ _

__Gerard shakes his head. “No, it’s part of the town’s curse. Every few years we have someone get really sick, and then they vanish in the night.”_ _

__“Huh.” Frank considers this. “Where do they go?”_ _

__Gerard shrugs. “Nobody knows. Some people think the creatures take them.”_ _

__“What do you think?”_ _

__Gerard ducks beneath a branch. He thinks he can see the edge of the wood now. He quickens his pace, and Frank stays right behind him._ _

__“I don’t know,” he finally says. “And I don’t want to find out. Hopefully you’ll be able to help him. It doesn’t have to be a miracle, but as long as he’s still here tomorrow morning, I’ll be happy.”_ _

__Even that much may take a miracle, but Gerard’s not going to think about that now._ _

__He breaks into a jog as the edge of the forest becomes clearly visible, but behind him, Frank slows down. He looks at the trees all around, his eyes widening._ _

__“Wait,” he says. “This is Neverdawn?”_ _

__Gerard stops walking. “Almost,” he says. “We’re not quite there yet. I know you can’t leave the forest, but you can go a little further, right?”_ _

__“Yeah,” Frank says distractedly. He keeps walking, but it’s still slow; his eyes are round as saucers as he takes in the scene surrounding them._ _

__Gerard is the first to reach the edge. He scans over the silhouette of the town. Everything is dark and hazy, but he thinks he sees a light in the window of his house. His shoulders relax immediately. Ray wouldn’t keep the candle lit unless he had a reason to - a reason like Mikey. They’re not too late._ _

__Gerard hears Frank’s footsteps behind him, and a sharp intake of breath._ _

__“Oh my God,” Frank whispers. “It really is.”_ _

__Gerard looks back over his shoulder. Frank’s expression is filled with wonder. He draws closer, entranced. “Tell me,” he says, “How long has it been since the sun rose?”_ _

__Something about the way he asks makes Gerard pause. “I don’t know,” he says. “They say it’s been a hundred years, but…”_ _

__“All this time,” Frank breathes. “It’s been right here all this time, and I didn’t know… It must miss me, too.”_ _

__Gerard feels like he’s missing something important. “I’m gonna go get Mikey,” he says slowly. “You just… wait here, okay?”_ _

__Frank looks away from the town long enough to smile at him. “You don’t have to worry about him anymore,” he says. “He’ll be fine. I’m sorry for everything he’s been through, though. I’d take it all back if I could. You humans aren’t as bad as you used to be.”_ _

__Gerard’s thoughts grind to a halt. “What?” he says. “You - huh?”_ _

__Frank takes his hand and squeezes it gently. “Thank you, Gerard.”_ _

__He steps forward, past the trees marking the edge of the wood. When Gerard blinks, he’s gone._ _

__Gerard stares at the empty ground for a moment. He looks around, but Frank is nowhere to be seen - and deep down, he suspects he won’t see him again. The ever-present pull in his chest has vanished. It leaves behind an empty space between his ribs._ _

__He walks as if in a trance to his own front door. Before he reaches it, it bursts open of its own accord. “His fever broke,” Ray says breathlessly. “He’s stopped coughing - he says he feels better, and he looks it, too - I really think he’s going to be okay!”_ _

__A grin spreads across Gerard’s face. “Really?”_ _

__“Really!” Ray shakes his head. “He must have a guardian on his side. I’ve never seen someone recover that quickly.”_ _

__Honestly, Gerard thinks, Ray just might be right about that one._ _

__Ray’s eyes go wide. He fixates on a point somewhere above Gerard’s shoulder, his mouth hanging open. “Gerard,” he says faintly. “Turn around - tell me you’re seeing this too.”_ _

__Gerard turns. He can’t say he’s surprised, but he feels himself smiling even wider. “Oh,” he says. “Oh, wow.”_ _

__Ray grabs onto his shoulder, gripping him tight. “Is this real?”_ _

__“Oh, it’s real all right.”_ _

__“What’s going on?” says Mikey’s voice. He pops his head out the door, squinting against the light. “What’re you - wait.”_ _

__Gerard sees the exact moment it clicks. Mikey throws the door open and runs out into the square, his head thrown back to look up at the sky. Down the street, a neighbor does the same. A murmur rumbles through the town. It feels as if everyone is waking from a deep sleep. People gather on the streets in clusters, their faces all turned up to the heavens, wearing identical expressions of wonder. Gerard puts his arm around Mikey’s shoulder._ _

__And slowly, at long last, the sun rises over Neverdawn._ _


End file.
